


Arkadii's Wedding

by baroque_mongoose



Category: Girl Genius
Genre: F/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 15:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2657126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baroque_mongoose/pseuds/baroque_mongoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsar Arkadii of Russia has invited everyone who is anyone to his wedding, and naturally international politics is never very far from the surface.</p>
<p>Even so, there are other romances apart from the Tsar's... though one of them may, perhaps, need just a little help to get started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arkadii's Wedding

War changes so many things. Most of those changes are tragic, but some of them are merely ironic. Before the war broke out, Queen Ewa of Poland tried to marry her daughter Princess Sylwia to Tsar Arkadii of Russia; but when Arkadii discovered that Queen Ewa had been trying to kill me in order to destabilise the alliance between England and the Wulfenbach Empire, he dropped Sylwia like a hot brick.

But now, with Queen Ewa dead, King Wladyslaw sitting uncomfortably on the Polish throne, and Arkadii firmly aligned with us and the Wulfenbach Empire, the marriage was to take place after all; no longer to form any kind of alliance, but simply to keep Poland in line. I doubted, frankly, that it would really need it. King Wladyslaw had the Spark like his mother, but not to anything like the extent that she had had, and from what I had gathered of him I did not think he was likely to turn out to be a strong ruler. Still, the Tsar needed a wife, and Sylwia was a stunningly beautiful young woman. I can see exactly why a man of his age and in his position would feel it was imperative to keep Poland in line.

How Princess Sylwia felt about the Tsar was another matter, and it was one that concerned me. Even leaving aside the personal consideration that I do not want anyone to be forced into marriage, she had the Spark too, and if she was anywhere near as wily and determined as her mother, she could potentially be more trouble to Arkadii than she was worth. However, it was very difficult to determine her personal feelings on the matter, buried as they were under a pile of diplomacy and international politics. It was certainly clear that her brother, King Wladyslaw, was very much in favour of the match; he felt it would protect his country against any possible future aggression from Russia.

But then, her brother was king, after all. Kings are often forced to put country ahead of family ties.

And so, here I was, squashed into a pew in the lavishly ornamented interior of Moscow's largest cathedral between General Dunsfold and Dame Lucilla Kemp, watching the ceremony in full swing. Gil was away at the front with the other leaders of state; the rest of us, those who were smaller fry but still considered important, had been seated mainly by nationality, although I noticed that nobody had dared attempt to part Maxim and General Hildegard von Donau, the new love of his life. It is, after all, probably a bad idea to argue with the combined forces of a highly successful general and her Jäger beau. So the General was sitting with the group from Mechanicsburg. It was the first time I had seen her, but it was obvious who she was, both from the array of medals and from the glances she kept exchanging with Maxim; she had very pale blonde hair tied in a neat pigtail, and she gave the overall impression that at any moment she might be inclined to get up and sing Wagner very loudly.

And... ah. There was the Polish contingent, near the front as one would expect. King Wladyslaw himself was naturally at the very front, since he was giving the bride away, but he and the Princess had several younger brothers and sisters, including one very small Prince who had been born during the war and was being held in the arms of a sturdy nurse. I discreetly took out a pair of spectacles from my waistcoat pocket; it is only very recently I have started to need them for distance vision, though I have had a pair of reading glasses for two or three years now. The young Prince was wearing a bonnet, as might be expected, but a lock of hair escaped from underneath it for a moment, and I distinctly saw the magenta tinge before the nurse tucked it away again.

So the rumours were true, then. I made a mental note to have him watched.

The ceremony drew to a conclusion, and Arkadii gathered his new Tsarina into his arms for the traditional kiss.

“H'mm,” I observed quietly to Dame Lucilla. “She doesn't look too unhappy about it from here.”

“I don't suppose she does, my lord,” replied Dame Lucilla. “He's not only the Tsar; he's also a very handsome young man. Of course we both know it's primarily a political marriage, but I don't see why they shouldn't be happy together for all that.”

“I hope so,” I said. “But you're aware that I was worried she might not be so keen.”

“It's a good match for her as well as for him, my lord,” said Dame Lucilla.

“Yes. But she is very young, and very beautiful, and her heart could easily have been given elsewhere.”

“Even if it was,” said Dame Lucilla tartly, “she's still Queen Ewa's daughter.”

I shifted uneasily. I wondered exactly how much Dame Lucilla knew about Queen Ewa's attempt to kill me; I had, of course, officially reported the matter as was my duty, but I had left the personal angle out of the report. I had said that I had been able to prevent her from killing me because she hesitated at the crucial moment. I had not mentioned that this had been because, for some reason I am still unable to fathom, she had realised that she found me attractive.

And then, of course, she had later gone on to bomb my embassy right at the start of the war, regardless of any feelings for me that she might still have; possibly even because of them, since if she could not trust herself in my presence, then I was even more of a danger to her than I might otherwise have been. Dame Lucilla had seen to it that I escaped safely. She had not been able to save my wife.

Queen Ewa's daughter. Yes. And now Tsar Arkadii's wife. And, above all, the Princess Sylwia, someone about whom I did not know nearly enough.

We filed out in due order. Up at the front, I could see Gil in the eternal wrangle with the Storm King Tarvek Sturmvoraus over which of them was going to escort Agatha; really, one day, those three were going to have to sort that out for good, but it was not looking likely to happen in the immediate future. This time, Sturmvoraus won, but no doubt only in exchange for some later concession to Gil. We also had a little sorting out to do among our own British contingent, since there were more gentlemen than ladies; but since nobody (to my knowledge at that point) was in love with anyone else present, that resolved itself quite amicably, with Dame Lucilla leaving on the arm of General Dunsfold.

There was a great deal of diplomatic mingling outside the cathedral, and I was in some demand both for personal and political reasons. We were close to the Mechanicsburg contingent as we left, and naturally Dimo and Oggie wanted to come and talk to me, since we had not seen each other since the war broke out; I had, of course, seen Maxim very recently, but now he was desperate to introduce his General. But Benedetta del Mare, the Doge of Venice, was bearing down upon me like one of her own mighty steam galleons, and so unfortunately they had to wait and so did I. I could guess what she wanted to discuss with me, and I was right.

“Ah, my lord,” she said. “It has taken me quite a while to find you, but here you are now. I believe you know something about Captain DuPree.”

“Indeed, Your Serene Highness,” I replied. “She tried to kill me in India, and she was arrested. I have not heard anything further of her, so I expect she is still in prison.”

The Doge frowned. “You say that very lightly, my lord. Do you not know Captain DuPree?”

“Your Serene Highness, I know Captain DuPree much better than is healthy for anyone,” I replied. “I spent some years avoiding her company whenever possible on Castle Wulfenbach, and when I later went to serve the Lady Heterodyne, Captain DuPree tried to kill me the moment we saw each other again. Since I escaped her, she tried again in Lucknow.”

“You escaped her... _twice?”_

“I did, Your Serene Highness.”

“Ha! Clearly there is much more to _you_ than meets the eye. Well, my lord, if you do hear any more of her, kindly do me the courtesy of sending word. She is banned from my city, but when she is free again I am sure she will attempt to return. I should like to know when to have my forces on alert.”

I bowed. “I will be happy to do that, Your Serene Highness.” I could have added that DuPree had also managed to get herself banned from several other major Italian city states; but I was sure there was no need. The Doge would certainly be aware of that.

The Doge departed in full sail to go and talk to someone she knew in the Greek contingent, and at last I found myself surrounded by cheerful Jägers again, together, of course, with General von Donau, who turned out to have a voice that strongly reinforced my initial impression of her as a potential singer of Wagner. It was a pleasant alto which nonetheless sounded as though it could very easily be notched up several gears in order to be heard distinctly across a battlefield.

“Good to meet you, my lord,” she said briskly. “Any friend of Maxim's is a friend of mine.” I was not unsurprised to find she had the sort of handshake that would have been best deployed as a tourniquet.

“Likewise, General von Donau,” I replied, putting my hand behind my back so that I could discreetly restore the life to my fingers. “I have heard a great deal from Gil about your strategic expertise.”

“Ho _ja_ , hyu bet she got dat,” said Maxim happily. Dimo cuffed him. I was not sure whether Maxim had really intended any innuendo or Dimo had simply thought he had, but, either way, I felt it best to pretend not to notice.

Oggie was giving me a puzzled look. “Hyu a lord now, ja, Mister Vooster?”

“Iz der Earl...!” Maxim began. I held up a hand to shush him.

“Maxim, I've said before I don't mind Oggie calling me Mr Wooster. It's what he's used to. Now, Oggie, what was it you wanted to know?”

“Vy hyu not got a hat?” Oggie asked. “If hyu iz a lord, hyu got to haff a hat.”

“Iz a goot point,” said Dimo. He considered the top of my head thoughtfully. “Hy heard vot hyu vere sayink about Captain DuPree. Hyu should haff taken hers.”

“I'm not sure it would suit me very well, Dimo,” I replied.

“His lordship does wear a hat in England,” said Dame Lucilla.

Yes, I thought; and his lordship also wears an ascot, or sometimes a bow tie, but not over here where I still occasionally get people trying to assassinate me. No point in making it easy for them, and I'd also rather not wear anything that could potentially be jammed down over my eyes and ears. But these are Jägers, and hats matter to them.

“I do also have a coronet,” I said. “I'm not sure if you noticed, but I was wearing it during the ceremony.” Only because protocol demanded it, of course, but still.

“Ken ve see it?” asked Oggie, excitedly.

“Ja! Hy bet it looks goot on hyu,” said Maxim.

I had naturally handed it to Dame Lucilla to look after as soon as we were out of the cathedral, so now I turned to her and she produced it from her briefcase. I put it on, and the three Jägers all grinned in unison.

“Iz a _goot hat,”_ said Dimo, with evident satisfaction.

Well, that was all right, then. I suddenly felt a lot better about wearing it. To me it might have been the outward symbol of a title about which I still felt a little self-conscious, but to my Jäger friends it was a good hat; and with that I was not inclined to argue.

An entire fleet of carriages had been sent to ferry us to the Palace, but thankfully no specific places in them had been allotted, so Dame Lucilla and I travelled with the Jägers and General von Donau. When we arrived, we were ushered into a great hall and handed drinks and tiny snacks on blinis, and I spotted a very familiar mane of green hair close to an almost equally familiar blond one. I moved over to them with my drink.

Zeetha turned and saw me first. “Heyyyyy! Wooster! I mean, Lord... what was it again? Havisham?”

“Heversham,” I replied with a smile. “Hallo, Zeetha. Hallo, Mr Higgs... is it still just Mr Higgs, or are you an officer now?” He certainly looked as though he might be, given the splendid uniform he was wearing.

“Captain Higgs, m'lord,” he said.

It still seemed a rather low rank for the finest soldier I knew who was not actually a Jäger, but nonetheless I duly congratulated him. “And this is Dame Lucilla Kemp,” I said. “My aide. Well, really my bodyguard, but technically she's here as my aide.”

Zeetha flicked a green eyebrow upwards. “Bodyguard, eh?”

I grinned. “Let me translate that for you, Dame Lucilla. I'm well acquainted with Zeetha's mode of expression. What she means is that she's itching to find out how good you are.”

“Yeah, that's about right,” said Zeetha. She eyed Dame Lucilla speculatively. “Though I expect you're no slouch. Your boss wasn't so bad when he was younger.”

“Coming from you, that's quite a compliment,” I said, a little surprised. “I didn't have half the training you did.”

“No, you didn't, but you did the best you could with it, and you had some guts, too.” She grinned. “I should have remembered to say that more often at the time, I suppose, rather than always winding you up. Still... that was kind of fun.”

There was a sudden blur of movement at that point. That, in itself, was not totally unexpected; Zeetha had evidently been planning to put Dame Lucilla through her paces, and I had ensured that Dame Lucilla had fair warning of that. What I had not been expecting was to get hit hard in the stomach. I was not sure whether this was the result of a mock attack on me by Zeetha or Dame Lucilla's attempt to defend me from it, but certainly someone hit me, and I staggered backwards.

I cannoned straight into someone, and was vastly relieved when two strong arms, one green and clawed and the other one mechanical, wrapped themselves firmly around my chest from behind and steadied me. I had lost my drink, but that was a great deal better than falling over in the middle of the company. “Dimo!” I said.

“Ho, dat Zeetha,” he said, amused. “She dun change much.”

“Indeed. I wish I hadn't said Dame Lucilla is my bodyguard. I should have remembered the first thing she would want to do was test her.”

“Hy tink she passed,” said Dimo.

I looked. Higgs had pulled Zeetha back by now to prevent a scene, but Dame Lucilla was still on her feet, looking as fiery and determined as she had on the day she had dragged me out of the embassy before the bombs struck. Of course, I very much doubted that she could have won if the fight had continued; but if she was still standing now, then, yes, that had to be a pass.

Oggie sidled up. “Hey, Mister Vooster,” he said. “Dat leddy got some style. Is she single?”

“I do believe so,” I replied. Well, if Dame Lucilla did not welcome Oggie's attentions, I was sure she would have no trouble letting him know.

“OK,” said Zeetha, grinning at Dame Lucilla. “You'll do to look after our old friend.”

“I trust I will more than 'do', as you put it,” replied Dame Lucilla, in very clipped tones.

I hastily extricated myself from Dimo's grip and hurried over. “Dame Lucilla... please, don't be angry with Zeetha. You don't know her. It is just her way. Be assured, you have just got her respect, and that is not easily earned.”

“The breach of protocol involved...” Dame Lucilla began. She was cold and hard and fiery as a diamond.

I held up a hand. “If I wished to complain about the breach of protocol, I would do so formally to Lady Heterodyne. I do not. However,” and I turned to Zeetha, “I would prefer you two ladies to make peace.”

“All right. I'm sorry,” said Zeetha. “Sheesh, though. You've got more starch than your boss.”

I rolled my eyes. “Could we perhaps try that again, Zeetha?”

“Oh, allllll right. I take back all references to starch. Happy?”

“Satisfied,” replied Dame Lucilla. She extended a hand rather stiffly to Zeetha, who looked blank for a moment and then remembered to shake it. Higgs winked at me over her shoulder, and I returned a hint of a smile.

“Hey,” said Oggie. “Dame Lucilla? Hyu vun schmot leddy.” He grinned ingratiatingly. “Hyu vant to come over here vit me und hear all about der var?”

“I'm afraid that would interfere with my duty of guarding His Lordship, Ognian,” she replied primly.

“Iz no problem!” said Oggie. “Dimo can do dot.”

“Ja,” said Dimo. “Hy can do dot easy. Hyu two yust go off und enjoy hyuselves.”

Dame Lucilla, I have to say, did not look entirely as though she was enjoying herself at this point. I could sympathise with her. First she had had to fend off Zeetha's over-enthusiastic idea of a test, and now here was an equally unexpected flirtatious Jäger with back-up. Fond as I am of Oggie, I could understand why he might not be her ideal beau. After all, she is a highly intelligent woman.

I could see her hesitating. Dame Lucilla is normally an excellent diplomat; but Zeetha had nettled her, and she was therefore on the back foot, as it were. I decided I had probably better step in.

“If you don't mind, Oggie,” I said, “I would prefer Dame Lucilla to be guarding me. I know you would do an excellent job, Dimo; but if anything did go wrong – and you know I have had some attempts made on my life – then I would rather the responsibility for that stayed within the British diplomatic contingent. I wouldn't want an international incident.”

Dame Lucilla glanced at me with so much gratitude that I was quite moved. She is very seldom at a loss, and I must admit that I had half expected her to be annoyed with me for noticing; she has her pride. Oggie looked disappointed, but suggested hopefully, “Maybe ve tok later, hey?” Dimo, who has always been sensible, just linked his arm through Oggie's and led him off. No doubt there would be some other lady who would catch Oggie's fancy soon enough.

At this point I saw that we were quite close to Gil, and, inevitably, also Agatha, Tarvek Sturmvoraus, and several other members of all three parties. These other members notably included Gil's son Aristide, who was meeting a dizzying number of heads of state and similar figures for the first time. I would not have blamed him in the least if he had been overwhelmed, but, if he was, he was hiding it well. Gil was having to translate for him some of the time, since he spoke only French; but he had inherited his father's intelligence, and that was unlikely to be a problem for too long.

I walked across to greet them all. It was, strangely, the first time I had spoken to the Storm King in person, although I had seen him on a number of occasions; I had even crossed his path once or twice while we were all studying in Paris, well before there was any question of his being Storm King, though we had not had any reason to speak to each other. He knew who I was, of course, but that was no surprise. I was on good terms with his ambassador.

“Hallo, Ardsley,” said Gil. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Oh, for the most part, except that Zeetha decided to test out Dame Lucilla here and I had to help smooth things over,” I replied.

Agatha grinned. “I saw that. Well done, Dame Lucilla. Zeetha would have had most people straight on the floor.”

“Yes, well, Lady Heterodyne, she very nearly had His Lordship on the floor, and I strongly object to that,” said Dame Lucilla.

“Oh, she wouldn't have hurt me,” I assured her. “Still, it might have made a bit of a clatter.”

“I should at least semi-formally introduce you two,” said Agatha, looking at Tarvek. “Tarvek, this is Lord Heversham. Lord Heversham, Tarvek Sturmvoraus.”

I bowed. “Delighted to meet you at last, Your Majesty.”

“You may as well call me Tarvek, since I know very well you call these two Gil and Agatha,” he replied. “Good to meet you too. I've heard a lot about you.”

“I am never sure how to react to that,” I replied, with a smile.

“Oh, it's all good, I assure you. You are a _very_ smooth operator. If you were Gil's man to steal, I'd do it in a flash; but I think I prefer not to annoy Her Undying Majesty.”

“You would too, you little weasel,” said Gil.

“I might, with respect, have something to say myself on the subject of being stolen,” I replied. “You forget that Gil and I are good friends as well as allies.”

Tarvek beamed. “I can be very friendly too,” he said.

“Tarvek, don't tease Gil,” said Agatha.

“He does it automatically,” Gil grumbled. “He can't help it. Aristide, look at him. He is exactly how a king should not behave. Watch and learn.”

“But I'm a good king!” Tarvek exclaimed, the light of mischief dancing in his eyes. “And didn't someone say I was a fine ally to have? Why, I do believe they did.”

“You _are_ a fine ally. Doesn't stop you being a weasel,” said Gil.

“Oh, the pair of you,” said Agatha. “Ardsley, I have been putting up with these two acting like this for the duration of the war. Picture my distress.”

I could not repress a grin. “So you didn't actually enjoy every minute of their company?”

“Well... I might perhaps not have been distressed _all_ the time,” she conceded. “After all, they're pretty.”

“I believe I would prefer to be called handsome,” said Gil.

“Oh, I'm happy to settle for pretty. Though gorgeous is good too,” said Tarvek.

“Oh, get wound, Sturmvoraus,” said Gil.

At this point, fortunately, the gong rang for the wedding banquet, which meant I had to go and find the Hungarian countess I was supposed to be escorting to it; this proved not to be difficult, since she was looking for me too, and I was generally known to be a friend of Gil's. Dame Lucilla ended up on the arm of one of the Doge's staff. Normally one does not escort one's own consort, but I noticed nonetheless that Maxim still had the General on his arm. The term “normally”, I suppose, does not apply to Jägers if they choose otherwise.

I was naturally not at the top table with the heads of state, but I did find myself on the second table, to my mild surprise. This meant that I was close enough to see Tsar Arkadii and his new bride clearly at last.

They looked happy. Both of them did. Even when Sylwia was looking round the room, away from her bridegroom, there was not even a momentary trace of resignation or resentment on her beautiful face. I could not tell whether or not she was genuinely in love; but, without question, she was Tsarina of Russia, a Russia which was now more powerful than it had been in many years, and that was reason on its own to be happy.

And Arkadii, for all his tendency to bear grudges, was a good man at heart. He would treat her with all honour. If she did not love him now, she might well do so soon enough; and, besides, even if that was the case, she was in no worse a position than Catherine the Great had been.

Dame Lucilla approached me, smiling. She did not often smile, and I realised with a start that this was a pity; while her cold fire was certainly impressive, there was a warmth now in her face which struck me at a much deeper level. “I just wanted to thank you for stepping in as you did, my lord,” she said.

“Oh... really, that was nothing,” I protested. “Normally, of course, I know you can handle everything yourself, but after the way Zeetha behaved, anyone would have been a little thrown off. Anyone who didn't know her, that is.”

A hint of the ice returned. “I shall know next time, my lord,” she said. Then she thawed again and added, “Ognian is very... polite. I have nothing against him. But I also have no feelings for him, and he is still looking at me. I am afraid he will ask me to dance, and I would very much rather not. He looks clumsy.”

I really could not argue with this assessment. Oggie is lethal in a fight, but, sadly, he does not acquit himself well on a dance floor. Any lady wishing to dance with one of Agatha's Jäger guards should certainly pick Maxim, assuming, that is, that she can prise him away from his General for the duration of a dance.

“Then perhaps you might wish to tell him you are dancing with me,” I said, before I quite realised what I was saying.

Her eyes widened, and her smile suddenly became almost bashful. “Really, my lord?”

Ah, I thought. I have just been outmanoeuvred. And... I am not at all sure that I object, this time.

“Yes,” I said. “Really.”

“You're not... worried about protocol, or anything?”

In for a penny, in for a pound, I thought. “Protocol,” I said, “can take a hike.” Well, really... the way she was smiling at me, what else could I have said?

“Of course, I suppose you will have to dance with that Hungarian countess...”

“Indeed. And you will have to dance with the Doge's man. Hardly a problem, I would have thought.”

“I had better sit down, my lord. But...” Her eyes sparkled. “Thank you, my lord.”

Needless to say, the rest of the wedding party went very enjoyably indeed, and by the time Dame Lucilla and I returned to Gil's airship, I was already thinking through what the possible diplomatic repercussions might be if I became her regular suitor. I do not know whether or not she was thinking of the same thing, but I do know that she was still hanging on my arm with that wonderful smile I had hardly even known existed before that day.

“Heh,” said Gil, the moment he saw us. “Well done, Dame Lucilla. You have succeeded where so many others have not even been noticed.”

“You don't look surprised, Gil,” I said.

Dame Lucilla dropped a brief curtsey to Gil. “If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I'm going to bed. It is very late.”

“Of course,” I said. “Goodnight. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight,” said Gil, as she left.

“Gil,” I said. “Not only did you not look surprised when I walked in here with Dame Lucilla on my arm; you also looked guilty when I mentioned that fact. Now. What exactly do you know?”

“Sweet lightning, Ardsley, Tarvek wasn't messing around when he said you were a smooth operator,” said Gil, exasperated. “I can't put anything past you, can I?”

“No, Gil.” I sat down. “So why don't you just tell me?”

“Well, I don't know exactly how long she's been in love with you, because neither does she,” said Gil. “She wasn't when she rescued you from the Embassy. That was just duty. But if she saved your life now, it'd be for you first and Her Undying Majesty second. I could see that the moment she stepped off the airship behind you. So I had a little talk to her, first chance I got, because I know exactly what you're like, and I was pretty sure she was too proper to tell you how she felt.”

“And?” I asked.

“And you've been gradually warming to her since you've been here,” he went on. “I've watched that happen; you haven't been back here long, it's true, but I saw enough to understand there was at least something there. Something that might ignite if the conditions were right.”

“Did you put Oggie up to trying to romance Dame Lucilla?” I demanded. “Because if so, that wasn't fair on Oggie. He sounded as if he meant it, and I know he's no actor.”

“Like hell I did, Ardsley. Credit me with a bit of decency. No – I put Zeetha up to that pretend attack. She was actually meant to put you on the floor, but Dimo caught you first; he wasn't in on the plot. And neither, before you ask, was Dame Lucilla; she had to react naturally, and, believe me, if you'd gone down on the floor, she'd have gone from tigress to mother hen in about half a second. Then she'd have had to help you up, and then she wouldn't have been able to stop herself from getting that soppy look she had on her face when she came in...”

“Gil!”

“Well, you asked.”

“You... you utter...”

He grinned at me. “Utter what? Go on, say it, Ardsley. Even you need a good swear now and again, just to get it out of your system.”

“You utter... best friend I could ever ask for,” I replied, grinning back. “You are sneaky and devious, but then I'm a fine one to complain about _that_. And I'm really glad you had nothing to do with Oggie.”

“Oh, no, that was just Oggie being Oggie. He found plenty of ladies to dance with, as I'm quite sure you completely failed to notice, having been gazing into Dame Lucilla's eyes for most of the duration of the dancing. He's all right.”

“Good,” I said. “And how did Aristide enjoy the day?”

“More than I thought. I wondered whether I ought to throw him in at the deep end like that, but he's an adaptable young man. I hope he has the Spark.”

I nodded. “Yes, that would be a very good thing.” I yawned. “I think I'm off to bed myself, Gil. I can't stay up half the night like you.”

“I can't stay up half the night like me either, these days,” he replied ruefully. “I'll go and do the same.”

“All right. Goodnight, Gil.” I paused. “And if I can think of some cunning scheme to fix you up with Agatha, I will. It's been long enough.”

“Heh. That might not be so easy. I know she can't make up her mind. What do you think of Tarvek now you've met him?”

“I quite like him, actually. He's quick with his words. I was rather wanting to do some verbal fencing on your behalf, but I didn't feel that was quite appropriate at a first meeting.”

“Feel free next time we see him. You'd both enjoy it, and it'd get him off my back. Goodnight, Ardsley. Sleep well. Dream of your future Countess.”

I blushed. “Now, Gil, that's moving things forward rather quickly, don't you think?”

He grinned at me. “Yes, but this is you we're talking about. When you fall in love, you do it properly. If you haven't decided you've made a mistake after about a week, you'll marry her.”

He was, of course, right. Within a year, I did.


End file.
